


Broken Bottles Shine Just Like Stars (Make A Wish Anyway)

by myheartsinks



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:49:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1339381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myheartsinks/pseuds/myheartsinks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"...Why is that one jar over there filled with twenty dollar bills?"</i><br/> </p><p>  <i>"That's the douchebag jar. And Jackson was over last weekend."</i></p><p>In which Cora and Stiles are roommates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This House, She's Holding My Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> hello hi this is a work in progress I hope you enjoy it xoxo

"Dean Perrotto is a fucking idiot," Stiles declares as he slams the door and immediately starts whipping his jacket off. His hand gets stuck in the sleeve and he spends the better part of a minute windmilling around in a circle in an attempt fix his mistake. 

"I'll go ahead and take it that your dissertation meeting didn't go well." Cora haphazards, eyes glued to the laptop in front of her in their den. It was small, like the rest of their apartment - barely able to hold a couch and a television in the room. Bernice, her friend that stopped by on occasion, was occupying the end of the couch Cora wasn't on and staring at Stiles in disdain.

"Terrible! It went terrible! You'd think an advisor would be _happy_ that I was ahead of schedule but whoa nelly, you'd be wrong about that one! I mean, I understand my dissertation is about dentition-" Stiles had managed to get his jacket off, working on his cardigan next.

"Oh by the way, Scott called and said he saw your dad at that new bakery again-" 

"-But honestly, I'm going to be a doctor! And teeth are important! You wouldn't _believe_ how many doctors don't know shit about teeth, like they probably don't even know a pulp horn from a root-" Stiles fumbled around with his belt, kicking his shoes off in the process. 

"-But he apparently goes in and eats the gluten free rolls and is trying to convince the place to sell whole wheat croissants? Which sounds so gross-"

"-Whole wheat anything is gross Cora, don't front. If I wanted to eat dirt I'd ask your brother to cook for me, remember when he made that 'casserole'?"

Cora immediately gagged. "We agreed to never mention that again after the Great Green Bean Fiasco of 2014." she reminded him. 

"...Why is he getting naked? Cora, your deranged roomie is getting naked in your living room." Bernice was shooting glares at Stiles' bare legs. 

"How the fuck else am I supposed to do naked yoga, Bernice?" Stiles cocks a hand exaggeratedly on his hip. He’s standing in only his boxers, attempting to track down where he put his yoga mat last. "I am capital S Stressed. I have three chapters worth of nutrition to study, two pathophysiology lectures to go through, and seventeen citations to fix for my dissertation. I need an hour or two of yoga to calm me down."

"I just don't understand why you have to do it naked, Stiles." she was still eyeing his legs with disgust.

"What, do my pasty white legs offend you? Because I will have you know that my body is a temple. A wonderland, even. If Taylor Swift and I ever dated she'd write at least three songs about the moles on my chest alone, Bernice-" 

"Put money in the naked jar." Cora cut through his speech, Stiles deflating as a result. He rummaged through his khakis before pulling out his wallet, walking himself to their windowsill lined with various sized mason jars. Two dollar bills were stuffed into the one that had "NAKED" scribbled on it, before retreating back to his yoga mat.

"...Why is that one jar over there filled with twenty dollar bills?"

"That's the douchebag jar. And Jackson was over last weekend." Cora shrugs, eyes still glued onto her laptop screen. Her fingers make quick work in the microsoft word document ahead of her. 

"Hey can you help me with this essay later? I need to bullshit at least another page of it. What made me think taking a graduate level psychology course was a good idea again?"

Stiles is in the middle of deep breathing exercises when he answers. "Yeah, 'course. I'm the master at bullshit, you should know this by now. Also, pretty sure it had something to do with shots of jaeger the day before you had to finalize your schedule." He stops suddenly and turns to Cora. "Wait, what'd you mean, my dad is stopping by at a bakery?"

Cora rolls her eyes. “You’ve got such a one track mind you dolt. Also, remind me to never challenge Lydia to a drink off ever again. I’m pretty sure we’re still banned from that bar, by the way.”

Stiles nods from his position in child’s pose. “Duly noted, I’ll put it up on the fridge rules later.”

Bernice huffs, gathering her things. "I'm gonna head out. It's obvious that we aren't gonna get any work done with this nut job around."

Cora hums in agreement, Stiles settling himself on the mat in a sitting position. "I understand that you're jealous of my ridiculously good looks and intelligence Bernice, but you don't need to run away from it."

"Nice Spider-Man boxers." she sneers back, stomping out of the room and to the door.

"Always a pleasure, Bernice!" Stiles sing songs back as the door slams behind her. He turns to Cora. "Have you figured out she's in love with you yet?"

Cora snorts. "You can smell it a mile away. But she takes the best notes in our linguistics class, and I can't be assed to pay attention at 8am."

"Damn girl, tell it like it is!"

Cora turns to him from her screen to raise an eyebrow. "Stiles, you aren't my gay best friend. Stop acting like it." She closed her laptop, before standing up to stretch. "By the way. Chris Creegan is coming over around 8 so you better be out of here by 7:30 the latest."

"Chris Creegan? As in the TA from your organic chemistry lab who can't tell the difference between acetylsalicylic acid and aspirin?"

"...Isn't that the same thing?" Stiles gives her a _that-was-my-point-idiot_ face, which just makes her roll her eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. The point is we're about to make this single carbon bond a double so you need to skedaddle off to the library or wherever the hell people go when they're sexiled."

"But...but bad dissertation meeting!" Stiles whined. Cora sniffed at him, picking up her things and disappearing into her room.

"It's your turn to do the dishes, by the way!"

Stiles face plants onto his mat from tree pose. "I hate every single detail about my life.” He mutters to the floor, before lifting himself up quickly and glaring at Cora’s closed bedroom door. 

“Cora wait, what did you say about my dad at that bakery??” He gets a pillow thrown at his head in response.


	2. Your Smile Lit A 60-Watt Bulb In My House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bit of filler, but the next chapter is a bit longer to make up for it. (Also, if anyone would like to beta this please contact me I'd really appreciate it!)

The thing is, they weren’t _supposed_ to be roommates, it just kind of happened. Stiles had just graduated from Stanford a year early, and Columbia had offered him a spot at their medical school. Cora had spent the last two semesters miserable and alone at NYU, determined to make something of herself and her impending social work degree. 

Lydia was the one that suggested it (not as much of a suggestion as an email sent to Stiles with a list of vacant occupancies in manhattan and a small note of _I can’t possibly keep visiting her every weekend, Stiles_ ). They had settled on a small but quaint apartment in Lincoln Square, equidistant from both universities. The location was close enough to central park that Cora could go running any time she felt too antsy, and Stiles was a big fan of the small coffee shop across the street. 

It was difficult at first. Cora constantly forgot to the do the dishes, Stiles didn’t always remember to leave the toilet seat down. They were both messy, and relied too much on ramen for dinner. Stiles would forget to call if he was late at the library and more than once had come back to Cora having a panic attack, worried that he was never coming back. Cora got used to wiping silent tears from Stiles’ cheeks the nights he comes home with hands shaking and mind numb after catching a whiff of his mother’s old perfume on his immunology professor’s person.

They adapt quickly to one another, though. Cora doesn’t mind Stiles’ naked yoga and need to take up a whole shelf of their refrigerator with red bull energy drinks, and Stiles doesn’t bat an eye when Cora puts anchovies in her mac and cheese or blasts the same Alabama Shakes song for three hours at a time. They spend wednesday nights making pasta dinner together, dancing around the den with their shared record player at the highest it can go and Prince singing smoothly about purple rain. 

It was good for both of them - Cora had a familiar face in New York, and Stiles needed a change of scenery. Lydia (getting her masters at MIT) and Jackson (back from London to attend Harvard Law School) came down to New York as often as their schedules would allow, skyping and calling in the meanwhile. They even managed to keep in touch with everyone in Beacon Hills on a regular basis, certain days promised to certain people for video chatting and the like. Everyone agreed that the system was a good one. 

Everyone, that is, except for a certain Derek Hale. 

“What’s wrong with Cora?” Stiles rolls his eyes at the skype window, Derek staring at him with a slight frown on his face. Stiles and Cora had been rooming together for nearly three years now, and Derek was still convinced that something terrible and supernatural would steal the both of them in the middle of the night. Stiles couldn’t convince him otherwise, no matter how many times he mentioned that the last time anything remotely exciting happened was four years ago.

“Hello Derek, nice to see you again too Derek, I’m doing just fine, how’s the imaginary wife and kids?”

“ _Stiles._ ”

“Why does something have to be wrong with Cora?”

“Scott said you said you couldn’t play xbox tonight because Cora needed the apartment to herself.”

Stiles scrunches his nose. “I told him we’d reschedule!”

“He’s still upset. And when he gets upset, Isaac and Allison get upset. And when Isaac and Allison get upset -”

“ - so do everyone else yeah, I got it.”

“I’ve had to make three trips to the supermarket for ice cream so far, Stiles. _Three._ ”

“Did you make sure to get Allison the strawberry cheesecake? That’s the only one she really likes to - “

“ - eat, I understood that after I had to _go back to the store a second time just to get it_ , Stiles.”

Stiles puts his hands up in front of him. “Calm down there Cujo, I can’t start yelling in retaliation right now. I’m at the motherfucking library.”

Derek nearly growls. “I’ll calm down when you tell me what’s wrong with my sister!”

“She had a study group!” Stiles replies, grateful that Derek couldn’t detect the lie through the computer screen. “It seemed like it would be a while and they were being kind of loud, so I came down here for some peace and quiet.” 

“You’re lying.” Derek replies, looking at him suspiciously.

“Have I ever lied to you, Derek?” The snort he gets in response makes him wince. “Er okay, maybe not the best question to ask. But Bernice is there, do you really want to subject me to that? Or anyone else, for that matter?”

It’s Derek’s turn to wince. “Cora told me last time she came over she almost set the kitchen on fire.”

Stiles groans. “She tried to microwave ramen without putting any water in the cup, Derek. Who does that? What kind of 20-something year old college student doesn’t know how to make goddamn cup noodles? Why doesn’t she love herself?” 

“I’m sure she’s not _that_ bad…”

“She made a snide remark about my Spiderman boxers today, I bet her favorite superhero is the green lantern, what a useless asshole - fucking watch it Harold, move your chips before you knock your coffee over.” Stiles warns the guy in his rotation schedule across the table, who nods him in thanks as he munches happily on cheez doodles. 

“Why were you wearing boxers in front of her? Was my sister there too??”

Stiles lifts a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead gingerly. “How is this my life? I was doing yoga, that was all!” 

The murderous look on Derek’s face softens. “What happened? Did you dissertation meeting not go well?”

Stiles launches into the tale of his terrible advisor and his useless advice, cracking open two red bulls in the process. He’s had to warn Harold about his coffee thrice more along the way. 

“...and _then_ he told me that if he didn’t wanna see me in his office again until I fixed all those stupid citations! I was supposed to be three weeks ahead of schedule, and he knocked it back. What a fucking prick.”

Derek makes a noise of agreement on the screen in front of him, the werewolf settled comfortably on his bed. “Why does it even matter if you’re ahead of schedule? What’s the rush?”

“Because when Cora and I come back home in two weeks all I want to worry about is which hospitals to apply to for internships, not my stupid advisor and this stupid dissertation.”

Derek huffs, but Stiles can see the smile on his face. “You’ve got the plane tickets and everything, right?”

“Course, bought ‘em right after thanksgiving break.”

Derek nods, opening his mouth to say something before they both hear a crash coming from his end.

There’s a moment of silence before Stiles hears Isaac scream, “Everything is okay! Everything is just fine and there is _not_ glass all over the kitchen floor right now! And there is definitely _no_ need to buy another vase to replace the one that I definitely did _not_ just knock over right now! None at all!”

Stiles stifles his laugh as he watches Derek roll his eyes so far back all he sees is white. 

“Go, take care of it. I’ve got a shit ton of reading to do, anyway.”

Derek heaves a heavy sigh before nodding at the screen. “Two weeks.”

“Two weeks.” Stiles confirms, grinning and giving a small salute before closing out of the screen. Stiles is about to let out a sigh of content before he feels hot liquid splash all over his thighs and calves.

_”Jesus CHRIST, HAROLD!”_

\--- 

By the time Stiles gets back to the apartment he’s ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the next three days. As soon as he opens the door though, the overwhelming stench of sex invades his nostrils.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Cora? Did you guys cum on - c’MON, MOVE A LITTLE CLOSER NOW!” Stiles immediately drops his bags and starts wiggling around the den, Cora attempting not to laugh valiantly, Derek staring at him from her computer screen. 

“What’s that? What happened?? Cora, what the hell is he doing?”

“He’s just dancing Derek, don’t sweat it.”

“-THERE’S SOMETHING IN YOOUURRR EYEEESSS!” Stiles is on top of the couch, belting out Zayn’s solo like it’s his own.

“I’ve never even heard that song before.” Derek grumbles.

“It’s One Direction, oh brother mine.”

Derek huffs. “ _Youths_.”

Cora laughs out loud when Stiles trips over the cushion on the couch and his torso ends up on her lap. “You’re _welcome_ , you ungrateful swine.”

Cora ruffles his hair in response. They both look up to Derek staring at them bemusedly, and Stiles can’t help but feel warm all over seeing his eyes so close.

They both fill Derek in on what’s been happening the past few days, Derek in return having no qualms updating them about pack life in Beacon Hills.

“ - and Boyd pretty much refuses to listen to me any time I mention that hotel in LA that wants him to be head chef, even though the pay is so much better and he could come down on the weekends or something, maybe.”

“He’s waiting for Erica and Allison to expand their business before he agrees to it. He’s not gonna leave Erica behind, you know how she gets when he’s gone for too long.” Erica and Allison had started a company selling toys to little girls meant to empower them, ranging from plastic crossbows to imagination kits filled with instructions on how to handle an intruder in the house. Business was going so well they were trying to find a suitable building for a headquarters.

Derek groans. “Well then why doesn’t he just _tell_ me that instead of making me think he hates me for even suggesting it??”

“Derek, do you realize how fun it is to rile you up?” Cora’s gliding a hand through the tufts of Stiles’ hair, a fond expression on her face as she looks at her brother on the screen.

“SO fun. Remember when we convinced him Isaac was moonlighting as a prostitute those nights he was working late at the office?”  
“Oh my god _yes_. And Derek couldn’t figure out how to bring it up so he just kept making Isaac food and making him eat it all?”

“Ooh, or the time we told him Melissa was mad at him because he wouldn’t share that cornbread recipe from Grandmama?”

“He cleaned the gutters at her house for hours. _Hours_.” 

“I gave the recipe to that _and_ the cranberry sauce afterward, too.” Derek’s frown makes the duo laugh even harder, and his face softens at their laughter.

“Alright, that’s enough idiots. I have to go now anyway, it’s almost time for dinner now. Cora, tomorrow at 3, right?”

“You got it, big bro. Love you.”

“Love you too.” He mumbles, before they’re left staring at a blank screen.

Stiles flops on Cora’s lap so he’s facing her. “You better start fabreezing the shit out of this room.”

She gets up and heads toward the kitchen. “We sixty nine’d on that couch.” 

Stiles spends the next three days locked in his room and looking up a dry cleaning place that does couches for cheap. He doesn’t find any, but he does get a great groupon for an electric kettle, though. The irritation on Cora’s face when she wakes up to the god awful noise it makes in the morning is revenge enough, the way Stiles looks at it.


	3. Set My Clock For Californi-aye-ay

Cora and Stiles have going home down to a science. A terrible, discombobulated science that usually results in packing a few hours before their flight is due and leaving behind incredible necessary and important things at their apartment (Cora’s laptop and Stiles’ present for Melissa this time around), followed by twenty to thirty minutes arguing about who gets the window seat on the plane, (Cora. It’s always Cora. Stiles knows he should stop trying at this point, he’s just too damn stubborn), drool on Stiles’ shoulder after Cora knocks out cold following her victory, and at least two members of the pack ready to pick them up from the airport by the time they land.

It’s Derek and Boyd this time, the only ones with the day off. Derek conned Isaac into taking his shift at the station where they both work as deputies for the occasion, and Boyd only works part time at a Japanese restaurant downtown. Cora threw herself at her brother as soon as she was close enough, Stiles following shortly afterward, Boyd shrugging and piling on top of the three of them as Derek goes down with an ‘oof!’ onto the cold airport ground.

Neither sibling would admit it, but since discovering one another were still alive their connection had just grown stronger and stronger. Small jabs and teasing grins were common around the Hale household, something that helped brother and sister relax into each other and the pack that surrounded them. Neither Stiles nor Boyd mention the tears down Derek’s cheeks or the glistening of Cora’s eyes when they manage to get themselves upright again.

“Hey, so about that flight back to New York. We might kind of have to switch airline companies? We’re banned from this one now.”

Derek stares at Stiles incredulously. “ _How_ -”

“Trust me when I say you don’t want to know.” Cora stops him before he can say anything else. “Anyway, anyone hungry? I could go for some In-N-Out right now.”

Stiles takes a long breath, letting it out slow and easy. “Ah, the smell of avocados and not a hint of eau-de-hobo-pissing-on-the-street-again in the air. What a time to be alive.”

Stiles doesn’t even attempt to run toward the car for shotgun when they see it. He doesn’t know why Boyd tries to either, because Cora’s gonna get it anyway. Fucking Cora.

\---

Stiles fell in love with New York the minute he laid eyes on the gum on the sidewalk in front of their apartment. He loved the smells, he loved the people, he loved the food, hell he even loved Hobo Bill in front of the coffee shop who told him incessantly about the impending end of the world. But New York, despite its fast pace and ability to welcome anyone and everyone into its fold, was nothing like California.

The air of Beacon Hills smelled like the promise of adventure ready to come. The sun filled his bones with warmth, and practically nothing made him happier than a late night trip to Moe’s Diner for curly fries and milkshakes. 

The first thing he does when he gets home is shove clothes out of his bag and into an empty drawer. The second thing he does is text Scott not to make plans for dinner so they can have some well needed bro time. The third thing he does is swing his jeep by to pick up Cora, the girl waiting impatiently on the front porch of the Hale house.

“Took you long enough. Thought you might’ve forgotten.” She says as she climbs into the car, rolling the window down all the way. 

“Not in a million years, ya dingus.”

They don’t speak as Stiles loads up on gas before they’re off, driving as far as they can go and soaking up the California sun. They’re belting out Beyoncé and Ben Howard and The Lumineers and whatever else is on the mix tape they made years ago, wind blowing their hair around shamelessly.

It’s two hours later when they start making their way back to Beacon Hills, half a tank of gas lighter and The Avett Brothers soft and slow on the stereo.

“D’you ever regret it? D’you ever wish you’d just gone to school in California instead?”

“Well Cora, you’re talking from the man who graduated from Stanford, so…” He laughs when she swipes a hand against his head, smiles at her affectionate “dick” seconds afterward.

It isn’t until they’re back at Cora’s and Stiles has cut the engine that he answers.

“I regret a lot of things, some times. I regret dragging Scott out into the woods. I regret not trusting Derek as much as we should’ve, especially in the beginning. I regret making friends with that vampire that one time we were on Houston together. But...I don’t regret New York. I don’t think people are _allowed_ to regret New York.”

Cora nods, and Stiles squeezes tightly when she grabs onto his hand. He continues, letting her thumb move up and down his own. “Besides, if we never went to New York, I would _never_ have gotten as much blackmail material as I do on you.” He waits for her to still before turning to smirk at the girl. “Did you know you talk in your sleep? Like, a lot?”

Peter raises an eyebrow when Stiles walks in with a fresh bruise on his cheek, but it does nothing to deter him from making the younger man peel potatoes for the dinner he won’t even be eating. What a _dick_.

\--- 

Scott&Stiles time quickly evolves into Scott&Stiles&Pack time and Stiles can’t muster up the energy to be upset about it. Isaac teases Erica in a way that he never would have three months ago, the smile on Allison’s face is brighter than the diamond on her hand, and Boyd has tears in his eyes from laughing so hard after Cora recalls the time Stiles got so drunk he thought jedis had come and chopped off his legs. Jackson’s grinning into Lydia’s hair as Scott regals everyone with the tale of a bird shitting on Deaton’s head, and Stiles heads outside for a little bit of air to the warm sounds of laughter.

He’s in the middle of a puff of smoke when he hears footsteps coming towards him, and looks up just in time to see Derek swipe the cigarette out of his mouth.

“Hey!”

“Stiles, you’re in _medical school_. You should know cigarettes are bad for you by now, I’d think.”

“Thank you for that information, _Dad_.”

Derek sighs, before stepping toward Stiles and taking a seat on the porch in front of Scott and Allison’s house. Stiles sits next to him, leaning onto Derek’s shoulder and sinking onto his side.

“What’s stressing you out? You haven’t had a smoke since your last round of exams, right?” There’s a warm hand on his back, Stiles closing his eyes as it rubs up and down.

“I’m not stressed out, really. It’s just...did you know that Isaac and Jackson have skype dates now? They talk about the books they’re reading together, like a two person book club. And Boyd’s been teaching Scott to cook! I mean, it’s so that he can make something good for his anniversary with Allison but the last time I saw Scotty he almost burned the water he was boiling to make tea with. And my dad is...seeing someone? At least I think he is, there’s hints of perfume around the house and gluten-free products and fruit in the kitchen which he definitely didn’t put there himself. I wish he’d told me. I wanna meet her.”

“It’s the woman that runs the new bakery downtown, Jane. She’s very sweet. You’d like her, I think.” Derek offers.

Stiles runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m just missing out! On so much! It’s like you’ve all grown older and more together and I’m just kind of...I don’t know. I don’t even know.”

“For a man who’s so ridiculously perceptive, you don’t notice nearly as much as you think you do.” Stiles turns at the humor in Derek’s voice before he starts speaking again. “Did you know that Erica only learned how to use Skype so she could talk to you? She borrows my laptop every tuesday like clockwork, ready to see you and only you. And when Scott’s having trouble handling situations in the pack, who’s the first person he turns to? You. When we all have dinner together on sundays, half the time is spent updating everyone on what you and Cora and Lydia and Jackson have been up to all week. So yeah, we _are_ growing older together. But it’s all of us together. You’re included in that, Stiles.”

The soft rustle of the wind in the trees is all Derek hears for a few moments, before Stiles looks up from where his head has somehow become cradled in Derek’s chest in some sort of faux hug. “Love you too, asshole.” 

“For that, I’m not gonna tell you where you dad hides the double stuf oreos he stress eats when you forget to call him every now and then.”

“In the pantry on the bottom shelf behind three boxes of oatmeal he’s never even opened.” Stiles says easily, helping Derek up from the steps. “Now c’mon, I left a freshly opened corona in there. Hey, have I ever told you the story of Cora’s sociology professor hitting on her at that bar on Fulton we used to go to before we got banned?”

When Stiles wakes up the next morning after passing out starfished on the couch, he can’t help but smile into the bathroom mirror and stretch out the ridiculously detailed left ball of Chris Creegan’s dick on his face. Fucking Cora.

\--- 

Stiles helps Erica with pancakes in the morning, before heading into town to try and find a suitable replacement gift for the goddess that is Melissa McCall. He spends a small fortune on earrings he feels confident she’d love, stuffs a meatball hero into his stomach in three bites, and spends a few hours at the local coffee shop writing out a few more pages of his dissertation before calling it quits.

He’s just finished packing everything into the jeep before catching sight of his father at the restaurant right in front of where he’s parked. Stiles vaguely recalls it being some sort of italian fusion restaurant, and he leaves his car where it is in order to investigate. 

“What is this? Why are you all here? Are you sipping _wine_?” Stiles snatches the glass in front of his dad before the Sheriff can react, taking a deep sniff of the dark red alcohol contained in it. “South American? Circa early 2000’s? Oh, Chilean. Yup, definitely Chilean.”

“I told you guys we should’ve held off our meeting until next week. He skipped two years of higher education because he was so goddamn smart, of course he’d figure this out too.” Melissa grumbles as she pours herself another glass of white wine. 

“What, that you guys have secret meetings about us on wednesday nights? I’ve known about that for years.” 

The Sheriff, Melissa, Peter, and Chris turn to stare at him incredulously. “Oh, like it wasn’t obvious? Allison and Lydia do their skype dates that night, Cora and I eat dinner together, Jackson is across the country, Scott works late, Isaac’s studying for the weekly quiz he has on Thursday, and Boyd and Erica visit Boyd’s family for dinner and a movie night in. It’s the only night that everyone’s too busy to notice you guys all mysteriously disappear together.”

“There’s no way you figured all that out yourself. Someone must’ve told you!” Derek makes a point to look down at the dinner in front of him before taking a particularly vicious bite of lasagna, tips of his ears turning red. Stiles’ father is the first to notice.

“I _knew_ you couldn’t have gotten all that information about the stores Scott’s looking at for wedding rings from Scott himself!” 

“Or about how Jackson nearly got expelled for that streaking incident.” Melissa chimes in.

“Don’t forget how he knew about Lydia trying to contact Putin so she could buy Crimea herself. He doesn’t even _talk_ to Lydia! How had we not picked up on this?”

“No, no, what really should’ve tipped us off was when he mentioned Allison’s pregnancy scare last May!”

Stiles glares at Derek and has no problem plopping himself down next to the man and taking a long sip from his glass. “You dick, I told you to keep that private! _Scott_ didn’t even know! Also, this totally explains why you were all giving your twenty something year olds the safe sex talk out of nowhere. You really didn’t have to bring out the bananas, Ms. McCall.” 

Melissa smirks. “I don’t think Scott’s eaten one since.”

Derek passes over his plate to Stiles, who immediately makes work of his remaining vegetables. “So, what’s on the agenda for tonight? How Erica’s been stealing Boyd’s protein bars when he’s not looking and blaming it on Isaac? Or how Danny started taking yoga classes for an excuse to try and woo Deputy Parrish?”

Chris stares at him incredulously. “How do you live on the other side of the country and still have so much information?”

Peter clears his throat. “Actually, we’re talking about you and Cora today. Specifically, your eating habits.”

“What eating habits?!” Stiles says defensively, well aware any heat in his words wouldn’t be taken seriously given the amount of broccoli currently stuffed in his mouth.

“ _Exactly_.”

Stiles chews down as much vegetable as he can before replying. “We eat fine!” 

“You’ve had cup noodles for dinner four times this week.”

“We put boiled eggs in them sometimes! Protein!”

“Cora told me you had beef jerky and half a piece of cheese for lunch yesterday.”

“I was in a hurry!”

“There’s also the matter of the shopping list I found crumpled up in her jeans when I was doing laundry today.” Peter brings it out and everyone crowds around the table to look at it.

  


“Oh c’mon, that’s not even that bad!”

“Son, you had red bull listed on there _twice_.”

Stiles opens his mouth to speak, but Derek cuts him off before he gets the words out. “We can send out a care package once a month, like we did with Jackson.” He suggests.

Melissa nods. “That could work. I’m sneaking some recipes into Cora’s luggage when she’s not looking. Recipes with things like _vegetables_. And _nutrients_.” 

“I already bought Stiles a metrocard so he can make a few trips to that supermarket that’s a little further away but a hell of a lot less expensive. Don’t give me that look son, I’m your dad. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

“I called the bodega near their apartment.” Derek reveals. “There’s a picture of Stiles on the wall and a ban on him buying any and all energy drinks.”

The glare Stiles aims at the older man could probably melt the sun. “See if I ever tell you anything again ever you big lump of -”

“-Anyway.” Melissa coughs subtlely. “Next item on the agenda, who’s bringing the booze next time?”

“I shoot down whoever got it this time around. This Chilean wine is _atrocious_.” The glare Derek gives Stiles lets him know exactly who it was that brought the wine, and he takes extra satisfaction in finishing the remaining bit of string bean on Derek’s plate. 

Stiles spends the remainder of the meeting on his phone, making plans with the pack for every waking second he doesn’t have to spend studying. He tunes in and out of the conversation in front of him, shooting down ideas that won’t work and suggesting ones that will. 

“-okay, so is that it? Or do we need to talk about the protein bar issue too?”

“Just tell Boyd to start buying the oatmeal raisin flavored ones, he’s the only one that likes them and Erica will start buying her own. Problem solved.” Stiles yawns. “Is this meeting over yet? Who’s logging your hours?”

“...No one? Why would we need to log our hours?”

“Well, we always log our hours when we have our secret meetings about _you_ guys.”

“Bullshit.” Derek calls easily, though his eyes narrow.

Stiles snorts. “Do you think that we all just decided to take kickboxing classes together _randomly_? And then made you guys do it too? And honestly, there’s a rotating schedule for who has to bring Melissa and Dad lunch. Have you really not noticed that yet?”

The table is silent for a few moments, before Peter looks up at the Sheriff solemnly. “Your son is a menace to society and I fear the day he procreates.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Chris mumbles. Stiles doesn’t even pretend to be offended when everyone clinks their glasses together, taking long swigs of whatever’s inside of them. 

They disperse shortly after, Derek eyeing Stiles grumpily when it’s just the two of them left.

“What’s wrong now, sourwolf?”

“I smile _more_ than enough, asshole.” 

They get kicked out of the restaurant because Stiles’ cackling disrupts three tables next to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so I don't think I'll be uploading this as rapidly as I have been, but I appreciate and thank all those reading :)))


	4. I'm Just Trying To Find My Way To You

Stiles has to leave two weeks earlier than everyone else because that’s how medical school works. He wakes up with a ridiculous hangover his last morning in Beacon Hills, trying to figure out why his mouth tastes like cotton balls and rotting fish.

He gets out of what he thinks is Cora’s bed based on the smell, and lets his nose guide him to the Hale kitchen. There’s a cup of coffee at the counter that Derek thrusts at Stiles, who sips it slowly.

“You somehow convinced everyone to go streaking right after the ball dropped, and the only reason Deputy Parrish didn’t write us all up was because Danny agreed to go on a date with him.” Derek summarizes, popping two pieces of bread into the toaster.

Stiles frowns. “Somehow I feel like that was probably my plan all along.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, in all honesty.”

Stiles groans, putting a hand to his throbbing head. “Man, I can’t remember anything past two.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “That’s probably because we all went to bed around that time.”

“No, I meant I can’t remember anything past counting up to two for the ball drop.”

Derek snorts before handing him a plate of the runniest scrambled eggs he’s seen in his life.

“Have I told you lately that I love you? No homo.” Stiles takes a bite of his breakfast and immediately moans. “No, nope I take that back. So homo. So much homo, Derek. C’mere, let’s make out.”

Stiles laughs delightfully as Derek’s cheeks pink, catching the piece of toast the older man throws at him in his mouth.

“You’re in charge of cleaning the dishes after, asshole.”

“Can’t we just leave them for Peter?”

Derek contemplates that for a bit, before shrugging. “I don’t see why not.”

Stiles pumps his fist in the air, chewing happily on his eggs. “Hey, so how do you feel about sushi for lunch?”

\---

They’re both filled with sashimi and miso soup a few hours later, Stiles showing Derek how to roll into a blanket burrito and Buffy playing on the television in front of them. They’re snuggled into Derek’s comforter, Stiles talking to his dad on the phone and Derek kicking Scott’s ass in words with friends.

“Yeah, I’ll be home for dinner. Oh, can we try out that new thai place on main street? Yeah, next to Carlo’s pizza...no, play ‘tempest’ instead there’s a triple letter word score there...what? no, I’m talking to Derek…yeah, I’ll tell him to come down for dinner…I think Scott has a shift ‘till late tonight but I’ll ask? Yeah, okay yeah. Yeah, Cora and Lyds too…make sure Isaac eats lunch today, okay? Yeah, ‘course. Okay, I love you too. I love you too, see you in a few Pops.”

Stiles hangs up the phone just as Derek is declared the winner of the game. Stiles hooks his chin onto Derek’s shoulder from behind him, rolling his eyes as Derek lets out a sound of victory. 

“You wouldn’t have won that if I hadn’t helped.”

“There’s no way you could prove that, just so you know.”

“...Valid. Also, dad wants you and Cora over for dinner. And he needs you to switch shifts with him so he can take me to the airport.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take you myself.”

Stiles frowns. “You sure? I don’t wanna be a bother or anything…”

“Yeah, but when has that stopped you before?” Derek mumbles, turning over and wrapping his arms around Stiles’ middle. Stiles settles his elbows on Derek’s shoulders, hands running through his hair. 

“Flight’s at noon.”

Derek nods, humming Norah Jones softly. Stiles sinks into him, head resting heavy on Derek’s chest.

“Trying to put me to sleep, Hale?”

“Lord knows you need it. I’ll wake you up in time to shower and head over to your Dad’s, alright?” 

“Hm...yeah...hey, did I give you a ticket for graduation yet?”

“Yeah, Isaac’s mad he didn’t get one by the way. Or at least a little upset about it.”

Stiles frowns. “Didn’t get that many.”

“He knows. He’ll go to the after party, at least.”

“Excited about going to New York?”

“It’s been a dream of mine to be on Humans of New York.” Derek deadpans, Stiles laughing in response. “Take a nap now, okay?”

He’s hot and full and sleepy and his eyes are fluttering closed when he hears the front door open. Derek’s whispering something to whoever walked in, but Stiles succumbs to sleep.

\--- 

Allison’s sitting in his lap sharing container of green curry a few hours later, both watching on amusedly as Cora and Isaac battle each other for the last piece of shrimp in the pad thai that’s already been devoured. Melissa’s on her way, Derek’s gone to pick up Boyd, and Stiles’ heart aches knowing that in a few short hours he’ll be on a plane far away from this, not to return until well into the summer.

“Hey, are you okay babe?” Stiles blinks at Allison’s question, flashing her a grin. 

“Yeah, ‘course. I’m just gonna miss this, is all.”

Allison wraps a hand around his, squeezing gently. “Hey, you’ll be back before you know it. And maybe we can plan a weekend to try and come over? Scott and me, probably Derek too?”

Stiles gets giddy at the idea alone. “I think I have a week in February that’s a bit of a lull? It could work out.”

“And even if it doesn’t, we’ll all be there for your graduation, of course.”

Stiles nods. “I can’t believe how well that all worked out. Cora and mine in the same week, Lydia’s a few days afterward...hey, did you hear she got an apprenticeship with that doctor at Harvard?”

“Of course she did, she’s _Lydia_.”

“Cora’s been looking into grad schools around the area. I’m not sure if I’m gonna end up doing residency in New York, and she really loved Boston when we went up to visit them last time.”

Allison gives him a curious look as she takes another bite of chicken. “So, Scott spoke to Dr. Lee the other day.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Did he now?” Dr. Yuna Lee is highly regarded as one of the best neurosurgeons in the state of California, conveniently working at Beacon Hills Hospital. 

Allison nods. “She’s been thinking about retiring in a few years. Five or six, so the hospital can find another neurosurgeon in the meanwhile. One that she wants to train herself especially.” She’s going for nonchalant, but Stiles sees the way her eye twitches. 

“Is she, now.” 

She gives him a look. “I’m just saying. You obviously miss being here, it’ll take you about that amount of time to get all your accreditation to become a neurosurgeon anyway, and instead of hopping around from university to university, it might be better for you to just stay here?” 

“I see you’ve put a lot of thought into this.” 

She shrugs. “Everyone’s getting settled down. Jackson’ll take over his dad’s firm when he’s done with law school, Lydia already secured an adjunct position at Berkeley. That’s only an hour away. And Boyd got offered a job near the building we’re scoping out in San Fran, we can commute to and from every day easily. Plus, Scott’s on his way to head nurse at the hospital so it’s not like you’ll be all by yourself there.”

“Allison-”

“No, shut up and listen for once. Your dad is going to retire soon, so is Melissa. Don’t you want to be around for that? Scott’s taking over Deaton’s vet business on the days he’s not at the hospital. What if he needs you for something?”

Stiles huffs, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. “You guys miss me that much, huh?”

Allison gives him a watery smile. “Yeah, yeah we do.” Stiles hears a commotion and looks up to see Boyd giving his dad a hug, Derek grabbing a container of pad see ew for himself. “Some more than others.”

Allison hops off his lap before he can question her about her last few words, Derek giving him a curious look. Stiles marches up to him and steals the next bite right off of Derek’s chopsticks as an answer. 

“You’re such an asshole, Stilinski.” Stiles can feel the affection in his tone, and settles next to him as Allison pops Captain America into the DVD player. 

“Love you too, butt muncher.”

\---

“Sti-”

“Nope.”

“Stiles-”

“Shut up.”

“ _Stiles_ -”

“Derek, seriously just shut up and accept that I’m hugging you until the last call for my goddamn plane.”

Derek sighs, nonetheless burying his head into the junction between Stiles’ shoulder and neck. 

“Tell me you’re gonna miss me.” Stiles demands, feet a few inches off the ground because of the grip Derek has around him.

“‘M gonna miss you.”

“Tell me I’m your favorite.”

“You’re my favorite, asshole.”

“Tell me you’re going to write about how much you wish I was home every day in your diary while crying manly tears and writing soliloquies about how good my butt looks lately.”

Derek stills. “Who told you about my journal?”

Stiles laughs, gripping Derek’s shoulder as he’s settled onto the ground. He hears the announcement for his plane and sighs heavily. 

“Hey, none of that. Take care of yourself, got it? Cora’ll be back soon. Call me when you get off the plane, okay?” Derek pats his cheek lightly

“Always.” Stiles promises, giving him one more tight hug before picking up his bag and heading to his terminal.

“Take it easy.” Derek calls after him, Stiles saluting back at him in response.

He’s eating peanuts and drinking orange juice a few hundred miles away and can’t seem to stop thinking about the crinkles around Derek’s eyes when he laughs, bright and beautiful.

“Huh.” Stiles blinks a few times, mouth open and mind whirling. “That’s...new.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I might just update this once a day until the whole thing is posted, just so you guys know. Also, some background for this: I know absolutely jack shit about California (I live in NY), so all estimations of distances is based off of Beacon Hills being somewhere in the contra costa county of California.


	5. It's Alright To Be Amongst Ruble and Stone

Cora collapses three weeks after she gets back from winter break, Stiles bleeding from the knee after an effort to try and catch her before she goes down. It’s horrible and he wretches in the sink twice before the ambulance shows up, Lydia and Jackson already on their way down.

It turns out that Cora is dehydrated, her illness intensified by the fullness of the moon. She just needs to stay overnight for observation, but instead of that she’s totally fine according to her doctors. Stiles fusses and makes sure their prognosis is correct before texting Lydia ( _well we’re an hour away because Jackson drove like a mad man, we might as well stay for the weekend_ ), and eventually Cora gets so frustrated she kicks him out of the room to get her some coffee that isn’t just colored water. 

He calls Derek on his way to Starbucks, trying to remember Jackson’s usual order waiting for him to pick up the phone.

“You’re supposed to be in class.” Derek answers.

“My professor won’t mind if I miss one. I’m two weeks ahead on her curriculum, anyway.”

“Mental health day?”

“Er...something like that. Hey, yeah can I have a tall dark roast, a venti dirty chai extra hot, a grande triple skim wet cappuccino, and...er…”

“Jackson usually gets a half caff soy latte. Get it in grande if you think he’s gonna be pissed, tall if he’s just alright.”

Stiles orders Jackson’s drink as a tall and goes to wait for it all at the end of the line.

“I didn’t know Jackson and Lydia were visiting this weekend.”

“Yeah, well something came up.”

“...What.”

“Okay, just don’t freak out -”

Derek groans. “The last time you told me that you followed up by saying there was only one season of Firefly and that’s why I couldn’t find more download links online!”

“I know, dick move. If it makes you feel better I asked Scott if he wanted to write out a script for the first episode of the next season and act it out with me, but he was all ‘ughhh Stiles I can’t I have nursing school things to do!’ which doesn’t sound nearly as important, if you ask me-”

“You’re deflecting. Why are you deflecting??”

“Okay, so the thing is Cora may or may not be in the hospital right now? But she’s fine! She’s totally okay so stop trying to find your macbook and book a stupid expensive and completely unnecessary flight to New York right now…”

“What happened??”

“She’s just dehydrated, I should’ve fucking noticed that I didn’t have to refill the britta as much as I usually do. She just seems - hey, thanks man - stressed out about school things. Her thesis advisor is kind of a dick.”

“There’s a plane that leaves in three hours that I can possibly catch, I can switch up my hours with Isaac or Janice -”

“Hey, what did I just say? No way dude, your ass is staying in Beacon Hills right now.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do right now Stiles, this isn’t in your jurisdiction.”

“Like _hell_ it’s not, Hale-”

“She’s my sister! She’s my sister and I’ll do everything I can to protect her!”

“She’s my sister too!” Stiles knows he practically roared that into the phone, knows his voice has been getting louder and louder the longer he talks, but he ignores the dirty looks he’s getting from the woman across from him waiting for the last drink to be made.

“She’s my sister too.” Stiles repeats, softer this time. “And I know what she needs right now is to just get back into the groove of things, not the goddamn spanish inquisition as soon as she steps foot back into the apartment. Lydia and Jackson being there alone are gonna be a little too much for her, and if you came too? She’d think you regard her as weak and unable to take care of herself.”

“She’s in the _hospital_ , Stiles.”

“And she’ll be out of it as soon as she wakes up in the morning. She’ll be fine, Der.”

Stiles can almost hear Derek thinking. “Okay. Okay, I’ll stay here. But text me as soon as she’s back at the apartment, okay? And tell her to be ready to Skype, goddamnit.”

“Affirmative, chief.”

“I know you can’t see it, but I just rolled my eyes. Now, go to the hospital before Lydia’s drink gets too cold. You know how she gets.”

“Love you too, asshole.”

By the time Stiles gets back to Cora’s room, he’s drank half of his dark roast and Lydia is carding her hand through Cora’s hair. 

Jackson gives him a short hug and grabs his drink, Stiles sitting next to Lydia before handing Cora her own.

“Seriously, you guys didn’t have to come all the way down. I’m fine, just stupid.” 

“You’re not stupid, it’s partially my fault too. I just got so wrapped up with rotations…”

“You’re both morons, that much we can agree on.” Lydia gives Jackson a look, but he’s already reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He takes out a bill and then blinks, looking around the room confusedly.

“...Why did I just do that?”

Stiles stifles his chuckle into his drink. “See Cora, I _told_ you doing your thesis on modern day conditioning ala Pavlov would work out in the end.”

Stiles doesn’t bother to hold in his laugh when Jackson tackles him on the ground, Cora and Lydia watching on amusedly.

“Hey, at least my thesis advisor will be less of an ass now. Can I interview you while you’re here, Jackson?”

\---

When Stiles had admitted his plans for undergrad, to say everyone was surprised would be an understatement. They’d all expected him to study some form of history, become a teacher or a professor. But the day his mom was diagnosed, the day he realized he couldn’t understand all the big words in the encyclopedia about her disease in time to save her was the day he decided he wanted to be a neurosurgeon. He couldn’t help his mom, but he could help others like her if he tried hard enough.

“...You want to major in morphological linguistics under a pre-med track?”

“Yes, that is correct.” He remembers telling his student advisor at Stanford, who looked disturbed at the thought of it. She didn’t say anything, though, and Stiles passed all the courses he needed to graduate and his MCATs with flying colors a whole year earlier than he was supposed to. 

He blames it on dumb luck when anyone asks, but really he’d asked Lydia to map it all out for him so he’d be in medical school as soon as he could be. Sure, the first two semesters were probably the worst in his life, but getting the confirmation letters of acceptance from various medical schools all around the country gave Stiles the gratification he was looking for. 

Medical school is the next hurdle, but with the knowledge he’s gained through years of internet exploring at 3am and his classes at Stanford, Stiles makes his way through it another year earlier than anticipated. It’s not much - he’s still at least another 6 years before he can call himself a neurosurgeon because of a piece of paper he paid up the ass for - but he’s getting there.

But some nights are harder than others. Some days he’s seconds away from accepting the pull of the nemeton in his heart, sick and tired of studying for tests, an ache in his heart wondering about what his dad is doing at the moment. He’s having one of those nights when he relinquishes his bed to Lydia and Jackson, wiped out both mentally and physically. 

Jackson’s out like a light after depositing a twenty into the douchebag jar (“It’s a preemptive strike, don’t laugh at me Stilinski”), but Lydia makes her way into the kitchen with purpose. 

Stiles is handed a cup of chamomile tea shortly after, letting Lydia climb into his lap easily.

“You’re worried.” She states. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just being dumb and realizing I had all the signs that Cora wasn’t drinking and eating right and did fucking nothing about it.”

“You are aware that Cora is a grown ass woman, right? She doesn’t need you to baby her. Besides, you’re not exactly the nurturing type. Everyone’s known that since you smashed Greenberg’s head on the monkey bars after the started crying in the third grade.”

“It’s not my fucking fault Greenberg is a piss baby nerd.”

“Ew, can we stop talking about Greenberg and talk about how you have the same look on your face that you did when we got rid of that unicorn?”

“Don’t bring Lionel into it Lydia, he doesn’t deserve this slander-”

“Stiles. Stop deflecting and tell me what you’re so worked up about before I call Derek and force it out of you.” 

Stiles sighs and the breath knocks the fight out of him. “I’m _exhausted_ , Lyds. I don’t think I’ve gotten a full nights sleep since undergrad and rotations are fucking killing me, I almost forgot Allison’s birthday, my dissertation is shit, and I was so fucking wrapped up in myself to realize that the girl I called my sister earlier today was in the hospital as a result. And she’s a fucking _werewolf_ , why would she need to be hospitalized??”

“Stiles, you idiotic moron.” Lydia cuts him off before he can respond by shoving the cup into his hands, waiting for the boy to take a sip before she continues. “You’re not the person that’s in charge of Cora. _Cora_ is in charge of Cora. And you’re in your last few weeks of med school, if you’re _supposed_ to be wrapped up in dissertation this and rotation that. And if you’re having trouble with that, you tell me. Or you tell Derek, hell tell Peter for all I care. That’s what pack’s for, security and reassurance. Don’t be an idiot and think otherwise. Also you’re dribbling a little bit, wipe your chin.”

Stiles does as he’s told, finishing up the cup slowly in silence. He’s twirling a strand of Lydia’s hair with the hand that’s not clutching his tea cup, watching her outline mathematical formulas into one of the cushions of the couch.

“Hey, but seriously. Fuck Peter, though.” 

“Do you think he’s noticed we charged the hotel rooms here for your graduations to his credit card yet? I hope not. Jackson and I have a suite.”

\--- 

Cora steps right over Stiles faceplanted in the kitchen a month later, whistling as she sets two pop tarts into the toaster. Stiles groans at the noises she’s making, Cora paying him no attention and pouring herself a glass of water from their britta filter instead.

She sits down on the floor next to him, nudging his side. “What’s wrong now, Stiles? Also, put poptarts on the grocery list, we just ran out of the s’mores flavored one.”

“Nothing. ‘M fine. I just hate myself and everything about me ever.”

“A touch on the melodramatic side, methinks.”

“Don’t tell me how to live my pathetic life, Cora.”

“It’s not pathetic! Complicated, maybe. Stressful, _definitely_ -”

“I think I’m in love with your brother.” Stiles blurts out. Cora blinks a few times, both jumping as the toaster dings. 

Cora nudges Stiles with her feet. “Hey, go get that. You’re closest.” 

Stiles trudges along to the toaster and settles the poptarts on a napkin before going back to his position on the floor, chewing unhappily.

“So...what brought on this realization, oh roomie mine?”

Stiles groans again, this time on his back and rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Did you know he saved a cat from a tree today? Like, he climbed up a _stupid_ tree to rescue a _stupid_ cat with his stupid pretty eyes god, I just wanna punch his mouth with my mouth. A lot. All the time, even.”

Cora whistles. “Well damn, you’ve got it worse than I thought you did bro.”

Stiles squints at her. “What do you mean, worse than you _thought_ I did?”

Cora shrugs, halfway through her poptart. “You both get so stupid around one another it’s kind of a trainwreck to watch. If you’re not sitting within two feet of each other at all times one of you always pouts about it.”

“I don’t pout!”

“Derek worked doubles for two weeks after we left because he kept switching shifts so he’d be around as often as he could be.”

“That’s beneficial to the both of us!” 

“I saw him for dinner maybe...every other night after you left? It wasn’t me he was making breaks for, that’s for sure.”

“That doesn’t...necessarily mean anything…”

“Hey, it’s not my schedule that he has taped up in his room. That’s totally you.”

Stiles gets himself up to a seated position, making no moves to brush the crumbs off his shirt that Cora is very obviously judging him for.

“I don’t even know what being in love _feels_ like.”

“Lydia says it’s like scoring the game winning goal every single time you hear him laugh. Like having a cup of tea that’s always hot, like...warm. Just really warm.”

“Like never running out of nutella, and even if you do who cares because his eyes are all you really need? Or having fuzzy socks on your feet all the time?”

“Yeah, that sounds right the more I think about it.”

The hum of the fridge is the only noise the two hear for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Stiles eventually gets the crumbs off himself, giving Cora a strange look.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just thinking about Derek’s butt and how much I’m gonna touch it next time I see him.”

“Dude, that’s my brother! Gross!” Cora marches to her room disgusted, and Stiles smirks as she leaves. 

“Hey, how come you told Lydia you’re in love with Chris Creegan before you told me?” 

“Don’t talk to me for three days!”

“Duly noted, I’ll write it on the fridge rules!” 

“Don’t sound so happy about it, asshole!”


	6. I've Been Singing So Much Softer Than I Did Back Then

He’s just turned the kettle on when he hears Allison’s laugh from Cora’s room. Shucking his sweater off, he wanders into his roommate’s room to see Allison and Lydia on her laptop screen.

“Stiles! Hey, how are you?” Before Stiles can even open his mouth, he sees a blur run into Allison’s room, Scott’s eye is staring at him from her screen.

“Uh…”

“Stiles! You little sneak!”

“Oh boy. What’d you do now, Stilinski?” Stiles is about to protest the resignation in Cora’s voice, but Scott continues speaking instead.

“I spoke to Dr. Lee again today! She told me that you guys have been emailing each other regularly since you were doing undergrad! Stiles, _what the hell!?_ ”

Stiles snorts. “Dude, I’m not about to go into a field that takes years of my life and not have a plan set up for when I’m out of it. Dr. Lee told me she’d accept me as a mentee if I finished within the top 10% of my class at Columbia. And you’re look at the salutatorian, bitch.”

Cora jumps on top of him and they roll around together on her floor as loud screams of congratulations emit from her laptop.

“Alright, calm down! It’s really not that big of a deal, guys…”

“Stiles, you’re being mentored by one of the top fifty neurosurgeons in the country. That’s kind of a big deal, you idiot.”

“And you’ll be home! Can we focus on that guys, Stiles’ll be home for good?” Stiles grins when more cheers erupt, leaving the lipstick stain Cora imprints on his cheek rather than trying to wipe it away.

“You’re all ridiculous.”

“And you love us for it, dude. By the way Allison, do you wanna order pizza for dinner? Mike’s is having a wednesday night special…”

“Ugh, pizza. As soon as I get off this no carbs diet that’s the first thing I’m going to get my hands on, I swear to - oh, _hello_.”

“Lyds? What happened?”

“Nothing, I just got a new deposit in my bank account from our favorite Beacon Hills beta.”

“Isaac is sending you money?” Scott asks confusedly.

Lydia scowls. “Not Isaac, idiot. Derek.”

Stiles watches Cora log into her Chase banking account before she lets out a whoop. “Hell yeah, I won’t have to worry about the exorbitant amount of money I spend on caffeine at all for the next week.”

“How much did you get this time?”

“One fifty. That’s the most he’s given out, right?”

“Damn, one twenty five. I’m pretty sure, if memory serves me correctly. If Jackson gets more than me I’m going to have words with Derek.”

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘this time’?” Stiles asks curiously.

Cora gives him a look. “Derek always puts money into our accounts near finals week. Right, guys?”

Lydia confirms Cora’s words, Allison nodding along. “He used to send me enough to visit Scott for a weekend or two while I was at Berkeley.”

Stiles frowns. “I don’t think he’s ever sent me money.”

“That’s probably because you eat him out of house and home as soon as you touch foot back in Beacon Hills. I’d know, I live there too.”

“Speaking of, I found a really great townhouse on Boylston for pretty cheap if you’re still thinking about coming here for grad school, Cora…”

\--- 

It doesn’t bother Stiles, it really doesn’t, he’s just...curious. That’s all. So when Cora packs up her backpack and tells Stiles she’s off to study at Bobst library, he whips out his phone and waits for Derek to pick up.

“What’s up, buttercup?”

Stiles rolls his eyes, before remembering Derek can’t see him through the phone. “Not much, butt munch. Hey, quick question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“How come you didn’t send me any money for finals week?”

“...What?”

“Cora and Lydia were talking about how you wire them some cash the week before finals so they’re not stressed out about it, I’m just wondering why you don’t send me any. I’m not like, mad about it or anything. I’d like to know why though.”

“Stiles, the one time I tried to send you some cash you didn’t talk to me for three weeks and told me it implied that I thought you were poor. You also punched me in the face, but I think that hurt you more than it hurt me.”

Stiles blinks. “What? When was this??”

He hears Derek sigh from the other end. “Your first semester at Stanford. I just pay for half your travel expenses home instead now. And don’t think that means your dad can’t pay for it, I just like helping out. Besides, the last time you willingly took cash from me you spent it all on Jack Daniels.”

“I was celebrating the end of undergrad!”

“You ended up half naked in Pennsylvania with no recollection of how you got there.”

“That’s not that bad!”

“You were in _Beacon Hills_ the night before, Stiles.”

“Do you smell that, Derek? That’s you harshing all over my mellow. You’re just harshin’ alllll over it, buddy, all over-”

“Are you done having a freak out now? Because your last dissertation meeting is in two days, I don’t want to take you away from preparing for it.”

“I wasn’t having a freak out! But yeah, I’m good. Sorry for punching you in the face.”

“Don’t apologize for things you’re not actually sorry for Stiles, it’s unbecoming.”

“Alright, no need to get your gun out of its holster. But uh….hey, I was just wondering…”

“ _Stiles_.”

“Just...how much did you give me that one time? I mean, if you still remember and all, it was a while ago.”

“I...don’t know? I think three hundred, somewhere around that.”

“Three hundred dollars!?”

“Yes Stiles, three hundred dollars. Do you need a minute to figure out how many red bulls you can buy with that?”

“A hundred and twenty but that’s besides the - Derek, that’s double what you gave Cora.”

“...Yeah, and?”

“That’s double what you gave Cora _this semester_. And she said it’s the most you’ve given any one of us.”

Stiles can hear Derek shift on whatever he’s sitting on from his end. “Stiles-”

“How much would you have given me now, Der? If I accepted it, how much?”

Derek’s quiet on the other end, but Stiles is relentless. “Derek, _how much_ -”

“A lot, okay? A lot more than I should. It’s - it’s whatever, who cares it doesn’t mean anything - “

“Derek-”

“No, _no_. This is not a conversation we’re having through the phone-”

“Hey asshole, you’re not the only one involved in this.”

“Stiles, I’m not going to tell you - I can’t just say...over the phone, it’s not - _fuck_ -”

“Derek.” His voice is smooth and soft, and he’s glad that Derek isn’t next to him to hear his heart beating out of his chest. “Der, you don’t need words to say I love you.”

Stiles stays on the line even though neither of them are saying anything, even though his hands are shaking and his heart isn’t calming down at all, not even a little.

Stiles hears Derek swallow before he hears his raspy voice again. “I bought an iPhone just so we could FaceTime.” he admits quietly into the phone.

Stiles bites his lip. “I have three of your henleys here. I wear them to sleep every night.”

“I check up on your dad twice a week because the house smells like you, not because I actually need to.”

“My phone background is a picture of the two of us from that spring break in San Fran. I stopped correcting people who assume you’re my boyfriend months ago.”

“When I got approved for the deputy job, you were the first person I called. You’re always the first person I call.”

“I take so many screenshots when we skype. _So many_.”

Derek’s laugh makes Stiles grin, and it’s not until he scratches his face that he realizes there are silent tears smeared all over his cheeks. It’s silent again, but Derek sniffs every now and then and Stiles can’t help the chuckles that come out of his mouth. 

“I’m kind of completely gone for you.” Derek finishes, and Stiles isn’t exactly sure about the sound that comes out of his mouth afterward but he thinks it’s probably a good one considering Derek lets out a hearty laugh right after he hears it.

Stiles is wiping the tears off his cheeks and blowing his nose, laughing into the phone. “I have no idea why I’m crying. I think I’m just… I’m just really happy right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” They’re both laughing into the phone, and Stiles hasn’t felt this light since December. 

“Hey, Derek?”

“Yes, Stiles?”

“I’m kind of stupidly into you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”


	7. Honey, I'm Just Trying To Find My Way To You

Derek calls him seconds after he’s out of lab, Stiles picking up with a bounce in his step.

“Hey, I was just thinking about how much I wanna blow you.” He winks at James who catches the words he says into the phone, the second year student laughing and highfiving Stiles as he walks by.

“Stiles, this is your father.”

Stiles stops in the middle of the hallway, knocking over Angelina Bell and making sure his caller ID is correct. Yup, that’s definitely Derek’s name on his screen.

“Well, shit.” He says into the speaker, holding a door open for Harold and listening to a loud burst of raucous laughter. “Hold on, is this on speaker phone!?”

He hears his dad sigh exasperatedly. “Yes, son. The deputies at the station wanted to congratulate you on graduating from med school.”

“Well, they’re a week early Pops.”

“It’s the thought that counts, Stiles!” 

“Aww, thanks for that Deputy Parrish. How’s Danny doing?”

“He’s having a good time in Hawaii, thanks for asking man.”

The phone gets passed around the office, Stiles accepting well wishes from the various people around the office. He’s settled in Central Park with a hot dog from a nearby cart when he finally gets transferred back to his dad.

“Hey, kiddo. How about we just completely forget how you answered the phone and never speak of it again?”

“Wow, that is a plan that I can definitely get down with. Speaking of, how’d you call from Derek’s phone?”

“Nicked it while he went on a lunch break. We put it up to a vote and there was a one to one chance you’d pick up if it was from him.”

“One to one point three seven eight, Sheriff!”

“Damnit Isaac! I rue the day Lydia helped you out with that probability assignment.”

“Aw, I miss you too Stiles.”

“Anyway.” There’s humor in the Sheriff’s voice, Stiles wondering if he’d be able to talk to his dad and snap a pic of the girl flying a kite in front of him at the same time. “Just wanted to confirm directions to the hotel with you. What was that thing about that bridge?”

“Oh, we scratched that plan a few days ago. My buddy Jimbo owes me a favor so he’ll be picking you guys up from the airport. You won’t miss him, I made a sign.”

“On a scale of one to Scott graduating from nursing school, how much glitter are we talking here?”

“Derek and Isaac getting their badges from the police academy.”

“Stiles, please tell me you’re kidding. There was glitter around the office for months after. I can’t go into the bathroom without having war flashbacks.”

“What’s done is done and cannot be undone, dad.”

“I raised a menace.”

“Damn straight.”

“So, anything you wanna tell me about a certain deputy in the department?”

“Yeah, Isaac’s been making eyes at Maria so you might wanna keep an eye on that.”

“I think we both know that’s not what I meant, son.”

“Yeah, I suppose we do. Hey, I gotta run. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Three days if we’re being technical about it.”

“Three days. I love you.”

“Yeah, alright. I love you too. I’m proud as hell of you too, you menace.”

“Hey, dad? You wouldn’t mind telling Isaac to pass that earlier message along to Derek, would you?”

“...I’m hanging up now.”

Stiles assumes Derek gets the message, based on the text he gets composed entirely of question marks and exclamation points a few hours later.

\---

“ _Dude_. You’re graduating tomorrow!” Scott greets him as soon as the door’s open, dropping the suitcase he’s holding to envelop Stiles in a hug.

“Dude! I know!” Stiles helps him in, looking around and trying to find his keys as Scott raids his fridge.

“Don’t eat too much Scotty, we’re meeting Cora at this new Korean barbeque place she’s been wanting to eat at.”

Scott nods, pouring himself a glass of water that he drinks quickly before they’re both out of the apartment and onto a warm New York City street.

“How’s it feel to be done with it all, man?”

“Dude, I’ve still got like, six years left. But after that it’ll probably be pretty dope.” They’re waiting on the line for the next bus to come by chatting easily. Scott’s staying with Stiles and Cora tonight, booking his flight a day earlier than everyone else in a happy accident. Stiles is grateful for it, Scott helping to ease out the nerves he’d been feeling earlier.

“Oh! By the way, your dad gave Isaac his ticket for Cora’s graduation. He said that him and Mom and Peter wanted to have a day to themselves while we’re here.

They get on the bus as it comes, Stiles swiping his metrocard twice for the two of them. “I’d ask why Peter didn’t get one in the first place, but fuck that guy. Oh yo, hey Boris. This is my brother, Scott. How was the Kanye concert?”

The bus driver nods at Scott, fist bumping with Stiles. “It was fly as hell, little man. Jay-Z came out and they did watch the throne together.”

Scott whistles low. “Dude, that’s like my dream.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m livin’ it brother. Get your skinny asses to the back, you’re holding up the line.”

Stiles bids Boris a farewell, settling down into a cold seat.

“Dude, you know the bus driver?!”

“I know a few of them Scott, I’ve been taking them more often.”

“I was gonna ask, isn’t the subway faster?”

“Technically yes. Technically, I’m also banned from them for the next three weeks or so, so….you know how it goes.”

“Wha-”

“Well okay, you know how Deaton was looking for an eye of newt? I saw a live one on the subway tracks! But it kinda looked like a rat and when I went down to try and get it, an MTA worker thought I was trying to commit suicide which was kinda valid, now that I think about it. But yeah, three weeks.”

Scott shakes his head, patting Stiles gently on the head. “Only you, buddy. Only you.”

\---

Later when they’re back at the apartment trying to figure out which video game to play, Stiles figures it’s a good as ever to clue his best friend into the new relationship developments in his life.

“Hey, I gotta talk to you about something Scotty.”

“Yeah? Anything man, what’s up?”

“Well, you know that pool you guys have going on about when Derek and I are finally gonna kiss?”

Scott gapes. “Uh...dude...whaaat, no what’re you…not even man-”

“Bro, it’s fine. I just thought you should know that...uh well, someone’s gonna win that pot. Pretty soon. Like as in, probably tomorrow. Right after I graduate.”

The twinkle in Scott’s eye suddenly shines three times brighter. “ _Dude_. Seriously?”

Stiles tries and fails to keep the smile of his face, soon turning into a full fledged grin. “Dude. Yeah.”

“ _Yeah_?”

“YEAH, DUDE! YEAH!” 

“DUDE!”

Cora bursts into the den to Stiles and Scott hugging each other so tight Stiles’ face is turning blue due to lack of oxygen. “I don’t know what just happened, but knock it the fuck off. If I wanted to walk around and hear frat bros everywhere I went, I’d have joined a sorority.”

“Stiles and Derek!” Scott beams at her, completely ignoring Stiles’ hands clawing at his own around his neck.

“Yeah, I’m glad they got their shit together, hooray my brother will finally be getting laid on a regular basis. But seriously, keep it down. And for god’s sake, let go of Stiles. He can’t graduate if he’s dead because you squeezed him too hard, Scott.”

Scott immediately lets go of Stiles, apologizing profusely. “Dude, I’m so sorry. I just love you a lot and needed to remind you.”

“It’s cool, man. It’s cool.” Stiles wheezes, hands on his knees. 

“Dude! I can’t believe it! It’s been _years_.” Scott unzips his suitcase and goes to the left side immediately, taking out a large manilla envelope. 

“Okay, let’s see.” He wiggles out a stack of papers stapled together, turning them quickly.

“What the - _Mrs. Henderson bet on us?!_ Spring of 2015, what a random guess.”

“Dude, she saw you guys food shopping together that time after the light faes and assumed. Half of Beacon Hills is on this list, the pot’s gotta be around a thousand bucks by now.”

“Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t anyone think to...I don’t know, _tell me or Derek about this_?”

Scott blinks. “Bro, we thought you knew!”

“How on earth -”

“Like, we thought you were taking it slow? Like maybe you had another five year plan worked out.”

“Dude, I would’ve told you about it!”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t because that was Lydia’s bet. She would’ve had bragging rights _forever_. Oh, here we go! On your graduation day, from Columbia medical school, right after the ceremony….and our winner is…do a drum roll bro, c’mon….and our winner is Stiles Stilinski!”

Stiles lets Scott process what he just said before letting out a loud laugh when his best friend glares at him.

“Stiles! What the hell!”

“Isaac wrote it down on the list. I promised him a cut of the profit.”

“...I feel so betrayed right now.”

“Dude, is Mr. Gunther from the deli on that list too? Wow, way too many people are invested in my yet to exist relationship. I’m not sure if I like it.”

“I _trusted_ Isaac.”

“Bro, you totally still do. I also promised that Derek would trade three shifts of his choice no questions asked, so it wasn’t just money alone.”

Scott is still frowning and staring at the list in his hands as Stiles makes his way to the kitchen, whistling and grabbing the both of them beers.

“Oh by the way, you know that other pool you have going on about the first time someone’s gonna walk in on us doing the dirty? Can I put a bet in or-”

“Just take the goddamn money Stilinski! Just take it!”

Later when they’re playing mario kart well into the night and Cora’s asleep on the couch next to Stiles, Scott pauses the game to give Stiles a hug.

“Bro...what?”

“Nothing, man. I’m just really happy for you.” Stiles blushes, ready to thank Scott before he speaks again. “Also, I just restarted the game while you weren’t looking and you just fell off rainbow road.”

Stiles turns to the screen in horror just in time to see Scott finish the race right behind Toad, groaning as his best friend laughs in delight. “Mother _fucker_.”

\---

The sun is shining so bright Stiles feels California in his bones. He’s dizzy with happiness and he can hear his father’s laughter as he comes out of a hug from his favorite linguistics professor, searching the crowd for the people he loves most. He catches the twinkle in Derek’s eyes first and feels his face stretch out into a gigantic grin watching Derek’s cheeks color at seeing him.

“Catch me, asshole.” Stiles whispers, before dropping everything he’s holding and running to him. 

He knocks the champagne out of someone’s hand and thinks he might’ve lost a shoe along the way, but he’s running as fast as his legs can take him and Derek’s doing the same, his sharp laughter ringing in Stiles’ ear as the older man jumps over a dog getting to him.

Their lips meet before the rest of them do, and Stiles wastes no time running a hand into the dark tufts of Derek’s hair. They’re both smiling into the kiss and if Derek chuckles into Stiles’ mouth well, Stiles isn’t going to tell anyone. 

Derek’s arm is steady around his waist when they come up for air, foreheads stuck together and grins threatening to stretch their faces.

“Your face is so dumb I wanna kiss it all over.” Stiles whispers softly, bumping his nose with Derek’s.

“You should do that. You should definitely do that, but probably after we give that man another glass of champagne and get that lady I knocked over her dog back. Think you can wait that long?”

Stiles shrugs. “Hey, pretty sure we’ve been waiting a few years for each other now. What’s another half hour?” 

Stiles wishes he could go back in time and write his dissertation on the sound of Derek’s responding laugh alone.

(HONY ends up taking a picture of their kiss and it hits 40,000 likes within the first twenty minutes it’s on Facebook. Derek sets it as his default picture on every single social media site he has. Stiles grins goofily for three days straight after he finds a wallet sized version of it stuffed between his credit card and driver’s license when he’s going to pay for a cup of coffee a few days later.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnddd that's a wrap! I hope you guys enjoyed the ride :) The title of the work comes from "shades of blue" by Gregory Alan Isakov, and all chapter titles come from his songs as well.


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